


Of Moirails and Morons

by AOrange



Series: Fruity Rumpus Afterlife Road Trip [17]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Gen, Meteorstuck, Pale Romance | Moirallegiance, fruity rumpus afterlife roadtrip
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-07
Updated: 2013-06-07
Packaged: 2017-12-14 05:19:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,253
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/833200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AOrange/pseuds/AOrange
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's been a few weeks since you last saw Gamzee, and you feel like a terrible moirail. He can't be that hard to find.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of Moirails and Morons

You feel like a fucking joke. 

You felt like a fucking joke the minute you began unscrewing the grate in your respite block. You've lost your fucking mind. You contemplate creating a memo in case you don't come back but that's not your problem. It's Future Karkat's problem, and that guy is a bigger fucking joke than you are. You don't leave the note, just to fucking spite him. That'll teach Past Karkat a lesson. 

The grate is leaning against the wall where you left it. It's not alone. You left a chair as well, because there was no fucking way you would have made it up into the air vent without its help. You're officially on a suicide mission. No one who hadn't been cooped up in a lab for perigees would voluntarily go head first into the belly of the beast. 

You hope that, if anything happens, someone finds your body before it ends up in thirteen pieces. 

You're dragging yourself through the vents on your stomach and you have no idea how Gamzee does it on a daily basis. He's at least a foot taller than you now, not including his horns, and you're struggling to turn the corners as it is. That's probably why you haven't seen him in half a perigee, he's probably stuck somewhere. For a moment you feel panic, as if you should have realised this sooner, and then comes the familiar wave of self-loathing because you're the shittiest moirail in fucking history. You start crawling faster through the confined space as the tightness in your chest grows, because all you want right now is to get out of there and to find Gamzee alive, because he's not about to die unnoticed on your watch. 

You turn another few corners and for a minute you're convinced that you're lost. Another right, then a left, and you're staring out of the grate in Gamzee's block. Just like that, the tension in your chest subsides, because he's in there and he's alive, and he's not covered head to toe in blood. What he is though is asleep, and you hesitate where you are. You're not sure if its better to leave him asleep, alone, or to go in and risk waking him up. If the roles were reversed and it was you sleeping beside your pile instead of on it, Gamzee would sit there patiently, and wait for you to wake. He'd probably be staring at some fucking dust, or he'd forget why he was there after twenty minutes, but he'd wait. 

You hope that's what he'd do, anyway, because you find yourself crawling out of the vent as quietly as you can. You step on a horn on your way over to Gamzee's patch of floor, cringing at the dull honk that echos through the room, but he doesn't wake. If anything, he smiles, and curls in on himself a little more. You sit down beside him and reach for one of the pillows he's stolen from somewhere, probably the common room. It looks like one of Lalonde's that disappeared a perigee ago. You slip a hand under his head so you can wedge the pillow underneath, since it can't be comfortable to sleep with your face on the steel floor. Your assumption is somewhat correct, and he buries his face in the cushion. 

It's the least you can do. You haven't got any idea what he's been doing since you last saw him. The lack of dried blood caked into his hair bodes well, but you're sure he hasn't been to the ablution chamber in days, probably longer. You run your hands through his hair and your claws get caught on the knots that have formed there, and it's a little matted in the back. You're not sure how to fix that. You could ask someone but they'd want to know why, since your own hair isn't that bad. It probably needs to have a large chunk of it hacked off, but it'd take Kanaya's chainsaw to fix the mess on Gamzee's head. It takes a while to untangle your fingers but you do, and you grab a second cushion for yourself and lie down on the floor beside him, on your side, watching him sleep.

By the time he wakes, you're dozing. You don't know how long you've been there but your shoulder hurts from digging into the floor. You shift onto your back and try to stretch out the aching joint, all while Gamzee is staring at you with that idiotic grin on his face.

GAMZEE: why's a brother all up and lyin' on the floor like that?  
KARKAT: I HAVEN'T SEEN YOU IN WEEKS, YOU MORON. WHAT HAVE YOU BEEN DOING?  
GAMZEE: I DON'T EVEN KNOW HOW LONG A MOTHERFUCKIN' WEEK IS.  
GAMZEE: but i've been minding my own fuckin' business you see.  
GAMZEE: BETTER FOR EVERYONE IF I GET MY FUCKIN' HIDE ON.  
KARKAT: YEAH, THEY'RE ALL STILL PRETTY PISSED OFF ABOUT THE MURDERING.  
GAMZEE: sometimes a mother fucker just can't help himself if you follow me.  
GAMZEE: IT'S NOT MY FAULT THE HUMANS ARE SO FUCKIN' FRAGILE.  
KARKAT: THEY KEEP COMING BACK. YOU'RE NOT ACHIEVING ANYTHING BY KILLING THEM OVER AND OVER.   
GAMZEE: like i said i understand the facts.  
GAMZEE: SOMETIMES I JUST NEED TO GET MY MOTHERFUCKIN' MURDER ON.

He's still lying with his face half buried in the cushion so you're having a hard time catching every word, but you get the gist of it. You turn your head to face him and you're greeted with another grin, peeking out from underneath his hair. You're tempted to fix it anyway, without knowing what you're doing, because anything will look better than the airbeasts nest that's starting to form. You reach over and brush the hair out of his eyes.

GAMZEE: hey, now i can fuckin' see you properly.  
GAMZEE: IT'S LIKE A FUCKIN' MIRACLE OR SOME SHIT.   
KARKAT: YEAH, CERTIFIED MIRACLE RIGHT THERE. WHAT HAVE YOU BEEN DOING IN HERE, WHEN YOU'RE NOT SLEEPING?   
GAMZEE: oh man, you know just the regular things i do when i'm not sleeping.  
GAMZEE: I STEAL YOUR MOTHERFUCKIN' FOOD FROM THE THERMAL HULL.  
GAMZEE: i don't even know what else i fuckin' do, i just sleep and eat and murder and then it's a brand new motherfuckin' day.   
KARKAT: THAT'S IT?   
GAMZEE: YEAH, MOTHER FUCKER.   
GAMZEE: shit just happens around me and i'm all holdin' on as it flies by.

If anyone else told you that they had no idea how they passed the time, you'd doubt them. You'd call them a complete fucking liar and you'd try to beat a response out of them. You'd beat them so hard that they passed out and then literally had to spend a perigee unconscious and doing nothing. Then you'd believe them, only then. But it's Gamzee you're talking to, and you're fully prepared to accept the idea that he spends twelve hours sleeping and the other twelve staring out a window into the abyss of space. 

GAMZEE: YOU ALRIGHT YOURSELF, BROTHER?   
KARKAT: YEAH, I'M ALRIGHT. STRIDER'S BEEN SHOWING ME THESE SHITTY, SIMPLISTIC HUMAN ROMANTIC COMEDIES THAT HAVE THE MOST TRIVIAL PLOTLINES.   
KARKAT: THEY'RE AWFUL.   
GAMZEE: you can't stop watching them, can you mother fucker?   
KARKAT: I'M TRYING TO WATCH EVERY ONE THE HUMANS EVER MADE, JUST SO I CAN POINT OUT EVERY FUCKING FLAW IN THEM.   
KARKAT: AND SOME OF THEM ARE OKAY.   
GAMZEE: OKAY SOUNDS LIKE BULLSHIT.  
GAMZEE: you got your cry on.   
KARKAT: DAMMIT, GAMZEE. THE HUMAN CHARACTERS MISS SO MANY CHANCES TO FILL A QUADRANT THAT ITS FUCKING INSANE. I HAVE NEVER SEEN SO MANY MISSED AUSPISTICE OPPORTUNITIES IN MY LIFE. IT'S A FUCKING TRAGEDY.   
GAMZEE: YOU DID GET YOUR FUCKIN' CRY ON.

He laughs then, and he shuffles over on the floor so he's lying with his nose barely touching your own. You try to scowl but he's pulling this ridiculous, pathetic face, and instead of berating him for the disappearing act you struggle to hold back a snort of laughter. 

That's all the permission he needs to completely derail the situation. Before you can stop him, he's a mess of arms and legs and you can't see anything because his fucking hair is everywhere. Just when you're ready to accept that he might be trying to smother you, he stops. 

His arms are wrapped so tightly around your neck that you're sure with just a little more pressure he'd snap at least three vertebrae, and you don't even know how he's got your legs as tangled together as they are. He's holding on as if both of your lives depend on it and you don't know why. You manage to free up a hand but it's a while before the back paps make a difference, and he loosens his grip enough that you can breathe comfortably again. 

KARKAT: SO YOU KILLED DAVE AGAIN LAST WEEK, WHO CARES? HE GOT BETTER. WELL, HE PROBABLY CARES BECAUSE HE WAS SCRUBBING THE BLOODSTAINS FROM HIS SHIRT FOR DAYS, BUT HE'S ALRIGHT.  
GAMZEE: he probably deserved it, brother.  
GAMZEE: HE PROBABLY MOTHER FUCKIN' DESERVED IT.  
KARKAT: I'M NOT ARGUING YOU ON THAT ONE, THE GUY'S A COMPLETE FUCKING ASSHOLE MOST OF THE TIME AND A DOUCHEBAG WHEN HE'S NOT.  
GAMZEE: you like him though, don't you motherfucker?   
KARKAT: HE'S GROWING ON ME LIKE A FUCKING DISEASE OR SOME SHIT, BUT YEAH. HE'S NOT THAT BAD.  
GAMZEE: IT'S NOT FUCKIN' ABOUT HIS SORRY ASS THIS FUCKIN' TIME.  
KARKAT: THEN WHAT'S BROUGHT ON ATTACK OF THE HIGHBLOOD?  
GAMZEE: i ain't able to say, I don't think.  
GAMZEE: ALL YOU NEED TO FUCKIN' KNOW IS THAT I AIN'T GONNA HURT YOU, BROTHER.  
GAMZEE: and if i do i didn't mean to do it you feel me?  
KARKAT: YEAH. ARE YOU SURE YOU'RE OKAY?  
GAMZEE: I'M FINE.  
GAMZEE: i'm fine, kat.

You need to talk to Future Karkat. You want to ask that moron what's going on because this is killing you, seeing Gamzee like this. He's clinging to you, stroking your hair, repeating himself. Over and over he's saying that he's never going to hurt you, he won't, no matter what that's not what he ever wants to do. He's clinging and you're sure he's crying and he looks so pitiful that you wish you could ask Future Karkat how to fix the problem, right now, whatever it is. 

It's a long time before he lets you go. His arms slip from your shoulders and he rolls onto his back to stretch out; he's too tall to stay curled up like a wiggler anymore. There's stains on the pillow and down his face from the tears, and all you can do is stare. You sit up though, cross your legs, and wait for him to do the same. He gives you that lopsided grin he's been doing lately when you straighten out his shirt for him and you give a worried grimace in return. He leans forward and rests his forehead against your own.

GAMZEE: THANKS, MOTHERFUCKER.  
GAMZEE: i'll see you again soon if you're not all up and cryin' at earth movies again.  
GAMZEE: MAYBE I'LL GET MY WATCH ON AS WELL.   
KARKAT: THAT MIGHT NOT BE THE BEST FUCKING IDEA EVER. YOU KNOW WHERE MY BLOCK IS THOUGH, YOU BETTER COME AND FIND ME BEFORE I HAVE TO GO LOOKING FOR YOU AGAIN.   
GAMZEE: i mother fuckin' will, my best motherfucker.

He smiles again. He paps one cheek and kisses the other, then finally lets you stand up. You don't bother with the vents to get back to your own block, because you plan on stopping by the lab anyway. You leave him sitting in the middle of the floor, still grinning, as you pull the door closed behind you. 

 

CURRENT carcinoGeneticist [CCG] RIGHT NOW opened memo on board DOUCHEBAG WANTED: ENQUIRE WITHIN.

CCG: HEY DOUCHEBAG.  
CCG: YOU KNOW WHO I'M TALKING TO.   
CCG: I NEED TO ASK YOU SOMETHING AND I NEED AN HONEST ANSWER.   
CCG: WHAT THE FUCK IS UP WITH GAMZEE?  
CCG: I MEAN, COMPLETELY OFF THE DEEP END I GET.   
CCG: I'M NOT TALKING ABOUT THE MURDERCLOWN ROUTINE.   
CCG: YOU KNOW WHAT I'M TALKING ABOUT BECAUSE THIS IS SURE AS HELL AN AFTERNOON I'M NOT ABOUT TO FORGET ANYTIME SOON.  
FUTURE carcinoGeneticist [FCG] 565 DAYS FROM NOW responded to memo.  
FCG: I KNOW WHAT YOU'RE TALKING ABOUT AND I'M NOT TELLING YOU.  
CCG: WHY THE FUCK NOT?  
FCG: BECAUSE THERE'S NOTHING TO WORRY ABOUT.   
CCG: THAT SOUNDS LIKE THE BIGGEST LOAD OF HOOFBEAST MANURE YOU'VE SPOUTED YET.   
FCG: IT'S BULLSHIT BUT YOU NEED BULLSHIT ON THIS ONE.  
CCG: WHAT THE FUCK DOES HE DO?  
FCG: YOU'LL FIND OUT.   
FCG: I'M NOT TAKING THE RESPONSIBILITY FOR DROPPING THIS SHIT ON MYSELF.   
FCG: YOU'LL FIND THIS ONE OUT WHEN IT ALL HAPPENS.   
FCG: IT'S NOT ALL BAD THOUGH, I'LL TELL YOU THAT MUCH.   
CCG: NOW THAT'S A LOAD OF EARTH BULLSHIT IF I EVER HEARD IT.   
CCG: I DON'T KNOW WHY I BOTHERED ASKING YOU ANYWAY.   
CCG: THANKS FOR NOTHING, DOUCHEBAG.   
FCG: SORRY.   
CCG: JEGUS YOU ARE INSUFFERABLY PRETENTIOUS. WHEN DID THAT EVEN HAPPEN?  
CCG: DON'T ANSWER THAT. I DON'T WANT TO HEAR THE STORY.   
CCG: ACTUALLY, I DO. I NEED TO KNOW WHAT HAPPENS.   
FCG: I SAID NO, ASSHOLE. YOU'LL FIND OUT WHEN IT HAPPENS BECAUSE I'M NOT TAKING ANY MORE RESPONSIBILITY BY TELLING YOU BEFORE YOU NEED TO KNOW.

FCG banned himself from responding to memo.

 

FCG closed memo.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


End file.
